Looking Through Autumn's Window
by Autumn Win-Dow
Summary: It was the perfect image - the colours of the Autumn tree, the garden which seemed to run for miles, and his silhouette as he approached where she sat. There was only one image which could be even more perfect than this.


_**Through The Window of Autumn Light**_

**by Autumn Win-Dow**

Himemiya rarely chose to exit the boundary of the Hana Hime Den and the lush, peaceful garden surrounding it—not only because of the presence of men outside which made her cringe in absolute disgust, but she didn't have a reason to.

Why would she want to leave and face her responsibilities with the many men she had to work with, when she could remain seated beside her window and admire what she herself had brought up during decades of living in the academy?

She knew that she had created a haven—an oasis, only real and touchable, where a female could do what they wanted without the interruption of man. A woman's paradise—untainted by the irrationality of the male gender, and purified by the sole presence of beautiful females. The definition of heaven itself—pure, clean, and free of the darkness which loomed over Alice Academy each and every day.

However, she had always thought that all she needed, she already possessed—the Hana Hime Den, the evolvement of nature before her, the presence of the strong females in the academy, and the bliss of staying in your self-created barrier, metaphorical and literal. But she still didn't feel complete—there was something missing, and that something was significant.

Himemiya adored the sight of the autumn leaves as they drifted from the branches of the looming trees—an articulate array of greens, browns, oranges and pinks brightening up the already blissful view from where she sat for lunch, near the crystal clear window. The combination of bright colours matched that of her kimono, and all she wanted to do every day during autumn was sit near the window and watch nature unfold before her like a blooming flower in spring.

But every time she sat down with a cup of jasmine tea, she couldn't help but expect something more in the view she had of the den's garden.

She could never quite place a finger on it—were there not enough flowers? Not enough young females to make her day more delightful? Was it her nephew's presence which tainted the otherwise pure surroundings—but of course, Shiki was one of the only men she could actually _stand_.

Every day, she spent her time wondering what was missing from the garden—and the garden was what she considered as her life. Thus, she wondered what was missing from her own life, as well as her creation.

Was it that it was autumn now? The time when leaves fell and collected on the grass, and soon it would be winter? Was it the calm before the storm, when the Hana Himes would finally gather prior to Christmas for a female-restricted ceremony? Or was it lack of man, himself?

Himemiya would always adamantly deny her last wild guess.

_Man? Tsk. I would never long for the presence of a man._

But just like many times in her life, she had proven herself wrong.

Eventually, she would wait near her window in the late afternoon, when the students were in their dorms—_hopefully _studying. Her eyes would remain glued to the window as she took regular sips of her tea, and trained a finger along the ornament in her hair—which was something which never changed, no matter how many days passed.

His silhouette was all too familiar to her—the outline of his self-designed principal uniform was a unique one, and the darker green which contrasted with the vibrant emerald of the grass stood out considerably.

Perhaps it was _him_ of whom was missing from her life.

_Perhaps._

She never felt annoyed when he entered the Hana Hime Den, even though he was most obviously a male—he was different. Himemiya couldn't really figure him out, either—she usually found men to be easily read, but this man walking towards her was complex in his own way.

It was if he had created a barrier around himself, so even a Barrier Alice like Himemiya could pry in so easily.

She had finally found her ideal picture—the colours of autumn falling off the thick branches of the tallest trees, the gardens spreading far along the hills, and his silhouette as he approached where she sat, all in the singular frame of her window pane.

However, there was only one moment where she would consider the image in the window to be even more perfect than it already was—with the silhouette missing from the image, only to be sitting by her side.


End file.
